LET me not to the
marriage of true minds |
|
Admit impediments. Love is not love |
|
Which alters when it alteration finds, |
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Or bends with the remover to remove: |
|
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark, |
5 |
That looks on tempests and is never shaken; |
|
It is the star to every wandering bark, |
|
Whose worths unknown, although his
height be taken. |
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Love s not Times fool, though
rosy lips and cheeks |
|
Within his bending sickles compass
come; |
10 |
Love alters not with his brief hours and
weeks, |
|
But bears it out even to the edge of doom. |
|
If this be error, and upon me
provd, |
|
I never writ, nor no man ever
lovd. |
|